Broken
by Comic Critic
Summary: Hermione Granger is faced with a simple problem. An unfinished puzzle that made up her past. Her goal is to solve it. But once that puzzle is solved, a new door is opened. A door into the future. What does her future hold and how will she handle it with a soul so...broken. Re-Write of A Stain In Time.
1. Chapter 1

**It's here guys! The re-write of the century! Aha...no. I didn't want to do the same thing as my other story, but of course I made some similarities. Now, let me point a few things out. You may have liked the original better, but I don't really care. I will not be continuing it. I am a human being that happens to have no spelling ability at all. So, if you find a mistake and it bugs you so much, you can Private message me and I'll fix it. Lastly, this is a story where I want feedback for the next chapters. I would LOVE to hear what you want to happen in the story. And if I happen to use your idea, then of course you will get credit for it! I want this to be a story that you all can enjoy and one I can continue until the very end! Okay. Enough rambling. Please ENJOY!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Supernatural! If I did, I wouldn't be writing this. (I refuse to repeat this every chapter. So, read this and don't sue me).**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

"Could you please tell me your name?" What an odd question. A very simple one. She knew her name. She knew it. It was instilled in her.

"Mudblood."

A sigh was her response. "You know that isn't your name."

She couldn't keep from being annoyed. "Mistress said my name was Mudblood. She said so."

"Okay then. Who is Mistress?"

 _Wild black curls flew around as a mad cackle broke the air. "Come here little Muddy! Mistress is bored."_

"Mistress saved me."

"Saved you?"

 _The execution was coming. She had been caught. How could she be so stupid as to be caught? Just survive. That's all that mattered. Damn her heart. Damn it all. "Look who we have here! Filthy Mudblood. Last of the Golden Trio. Finally come to join your good for nothing traitors?" Defiant. She stayed silent. She was ready to die. She was ready for her suffering to end. She walked to her doom. She waited for it. She wanted it. "Avada-."_

" _Hold it!" Everything stopped. The world stilled. That voice. That high pitched voice of a madwoman. "I want her."_

" _But Bellatrix. There are strict orders-."_

" _Hogwash! I want little Muddy as my pet! I don't care about orders. She needs more than death." Her body went numb. She could feel her relief fall away. That hand of death that she was so ready to clutch, had retracted. Bellatrix hopped up to her with a yellow toothed smile and grabbed her face. With her pride still running through her veins, she ripped herself from Bellatrix's grip. The woman cackled._

" _Still so defiant! So much spirit." Her chains were tugged so she came closer to the woman. "I'm going to enjoy beating it out of you."_

"She wouldn't let me die."

"Well that's-."

"You don't understand." Panic began to ripple through her. The air grew heavy as she looked deep into the man's eyes. The man with the questions. The man that never left.

"She wouldn't let me die." He began to try and calm her down, but she couldn't. "She wouldn't let me die! She wouldn't let me die!" She struggled against the straps holding her and screamed those words. She screamed over and over again. The man called in people to help and she was sedated. "Just let me die! Just let me die!" She kept thrashing until she couldn't any more. They had stopped giving her huge doses a long time ago. The straps held her in check most of the time. Actually, this was a fairly tame episode of hers. But she wouldn't know. Her mind was too jumbled. Everything was too jumbled.

The nurses conversed outside the room while she tried to rein herself in. She wanted out. She wanted death. She didn't want to breath anymore, but she was cursed.

It was a day later when her mind got itself in check. And when that happened, she had another session. More sessions. More questions. What did they want from her? There was nothing about her. Her name was Mudblood. She belonged to her Mistress. She killed her Mistress. Then, she disappeared. That was it. Nothing else.

" _Come on Hermione! Catch up. Drop some of those books would you?"_

The thought was pushed away. No. She was Mudblood.

" _Come on Mudblood. Once more. Scream loud for me would you?"_

Hermione. Mudblood. Hermione. Mudblood. Smart. Submissive. Strong. Weak. Unique. Slave. She didn't know. She didn't know. Why was it so jumbled! Why was it not organized? She liked organized.

"Miss?" She….liked something? "Miss!" She snapped her eyes to the question man.

"Organize." His eyes widened. "I like...I like organized."

And then, a smile broke out on his face. "That's good! That's very good."

She couldn't help but smile. "I did something good?"

He nodded and scribbled in his book. "Yes! Progress. We'll get you better in no time."

The smile melted away. "Better?" He paused. He was walking on eggshells with this patient. Always careful. Anything could set off a hallucination, a panicked attack, or just a crying fit. But most of all, he wanted to prevent her from lashing out. Not because he feared for his life, but because he feared for hers. She never hurt a nurse. Never once. The only person she ever tried to hurt, was herself.

"Don't worry about it. Let's stick with organized. You like being organized?" She squinted her eyes in focus.

"I want my mind in order. It's all jumbled." He kept writing. He was on a roll. This patient had been getting worse and worse. She only told them that her name was Mudblood. She only said that she had a Mistress and she killed her. That's what made him worried. The girl is delusional. Severely scarred mentally and physically. Killing someone was not something he wanted to hear.

This was progress though. An interest. A different thought. She was trying so hard and he was proud of her for that. "I can try and help you un-jumble those thoughts."

Her eyes widened. "I'd like that. You're the best, Harry."

He paused again. "Harry? I'm Dr. Jon Talmer."

 _Big Green eyes that shimmered like jewels. A kind and skinny face. Black hair that would never stay nice and neat. Her hands brushed across that unruly hair. Soft. A smile was sent her way. "The chances of getting my hair to lay flat is about as good as getting your hair to lay flat."_

Her hand reached out to the Doctor's unruly black hair. Her hand was stopped by the straps. But she couldn't resist. His green eyes looked at her with worry. "Harry."

" _Your hero is dead!"_

" _No!" Her feet hit the stone ground as she broke free from the terrified crowd. "Harry!" She looked to his unmoving body in the rubble. She didn't bother looking towards the man with the face of a snake. She didn't care that she might die. She just wanted her friend. She needed him to be okay. She slid to him on her knees. Scraping her exposed skin. Shaky hands coated in blood gently turned his face towards hers._

 _Nothing. Lifeless. She felt something in her shatter. Maybe it was her heart. Maybe it was her mind. She didn't know. All she knew, was that someone was going to pay. Fierce eyes turned to the leader of the darkness. Her anger was explosive. Her entire being felt like it was on fire._

 _Without a second thought she threw out her hand and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!" She didn't stick around to find out if it worked. She didn't care. She just needed to get Harry out of there. She needed to let him rest in peace._

"Harry." Hesitantly, the doctor took her outstretched hand in his. It was against protocol, but he felt like she needed the comfort.

"My name isn't Harry. My name is Jon Talmer. Who is Harry?" Tears began to flow down her cheeks and her chest tightened in pain. Her voice came out scratchy and weak. Barely a whisper.

"He's gone." He squeezed her hand. "It's all my fault." The tears flowed faster and she began to sob. "I killed him! I didn't protect him! It should have been me!" He quickly let go of her hand and called in the nurses. She was having another fit. Screaming, struggling, crying. She kept asking for death and blaming herself for so many losses.

He walked out of the room. His session was over with yet another fit. He was stopped in the hall by Dr. Fuller. "Hello doctor."

"Ah. How are you Jon? Did your session go better today?" Jon hung his head in defeat.

"She was doing good. She told me she wanted to organize her thoughts. She likes organization."

"Well, that's great isn't it? It's more than only three things she knew about herself. And it's certainly more positive."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know. But…."

"What?" He looked back to the doctor and pushed up his glasses.

"She called me Harry. She thought I was someone else. Someone she lost." Dr. Fuller sighed.

"Jon. You need to understand that not all progress will be good things. Some memories and emotions are painful. It's your job, to make things easier." Jon straightened his posture and took on a determined look.

"I can do it. I can help her."

"That's the spirit!" They walked their separate ways. Jon would do it. He would help his patient. It was his first case. Why on earth they would give this patient to him on his first stand alone case he would never know. But that didn't matter. He would help her no matter what.


	2. Chapter 2

**Yo yo! Back for Chapter two! And very very VERY good news! I now have a fantastic beta that is super smart and a great writer. So, the extra help is nice and maybe this story will be better because of it.**

 **So, give a warm thank you to the darling Scarlet Dewdrops!**

 **Okay. I'm done fangirling. Sorry. But remember, I still look for ideas Reviewers! Thank you! On with the story! ENJOY!**

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 **Chapter 2**

The air. The crisp, fresh air. She was intoxicated by it. This was the first time in months that she had been allowed out of those straps. She was getting better. Well, not really. She just knew how to function better. Dr. Talmer really was a great doctor. There were a few things she had done in his sessions that made everything feel more sane. More safe.

She was tired of the jumbled mess. Over the past weeks, she had slowly but surely organized some of her scattered pieces. She began to know more and more about herself. The doctor helped. He gave her techniques to focus and calm down. How to connect certain thoughts to others.

Her name was Hermione Granger and she had two best friends. Harry and Ronald. They were both dead. And she buried Harry. Her name was also Mudblood and she had a Mistress that she hated. Hated with every fiber of her being. She hated her so much, that she killed her. But every time she remembered killing her, the memory was locked away. It made her upset. Hermione was an animal in that memory. A savage. Less than human.

Hermione. The name suited her. For so long she thought her name was that horrid slur. She was told that the carved word on her arm was her identification. It made her so livid. She remembered so much that she didn't want to and the memories made her a different type of insane. She was angry. So angry. Now that the ever-present threat of endless torture was out of the way she would see the fears that had once made her quiver and lash out in heated rage instead.

She heard Mistress once when she was trying to sleep. In the darkness, that crazed cackle filled the air. It kept saying, "Time to go back Muddy." And when that happened, she would go into a panic. She wouldn't be taken. She would never be taken.

Spending that much time with a crazed woman like that, you pick up a few things whether you want to or not. Dr. Talmer was worried about her when she began singing to herself. Little chants that made even the craziest feel sane. She sometimes danced around and sang those tiny songs. She really never noticed. She never dwelled on it. Hermione didn't want another reason to hate herself.

She looked out into the garden with a soft smile. Her injuries were mostly healed. Well, the ones she got on her entrance into this place. The injuries from her stay with her Mistress would never leave. She once stared at them with sadness and pity. But now, she just didn't care.

She remembered getting checked out by the nurses after her drop in. One of them nearly cried. The lashing marks on her back would never heal. The slanders carved into her skin would never fade. The branding wouldn't leave either. Her nose was even a bit crooked from being broken so many times.

But the ones that hurt the most were from herself. She remembered sitting in her dark cell. The floor was made of mud, which over time had become a disgusting clumped mess as her blood soaked into it. Bellatrix had given her to her husband most nights. Sometimes, her Mistress rented her out to the male Death Eaters. But Rodolphus, she believed his name was. He would sit on a pristine stool in her cell and stare at her. He would then hand her a knife and tell her to turn it to herself. And she would. Sometimes she would get artsy and carve runes in her hands. She still couldn't piece together how she knew what they were. But every time she remembered, she knew what they were. Runes. Something she learned from…...from what? It frustrated her so much not to know. But getting frustrated over it would only make it worse. Talmer told her that.

"Time to come in, Hermione." She looked towards her doctor and nodded. He rushed to help her up and she waved him away. He shook his head with a small grin, "You're too stubborn for your own good." She shrugged.

"It's a Gryffindor thing."

He questioned, "Gryffindor?" She quickly reached her hand up into the air and grabbed that word then threw it in with the other weird words she hadn't put together yet.

She informed him quite matter-of-factly, "I put it in the puzzle pile." He nodded and they continued. The doctor helped her get organized with puzzles. He thought it was a great way for her to get her thoughts back together. They had made an actual puzzle together. Plain white pieces that she'd write memories on and stuck them on a timeline. Other times they would take a break to sit down and complete a real puzzle. Hermione loved the ones with otters on them. Talmer just figured it was her favorite animal.

"Time for lunch. I have a group session to go to. You'll be fine?" She once again waved the man away and he left her with a pat on the head. She got her lunch and sat down at her table. _Her_ table. The one right by the window that looked out to the garden. The food sucked, but she's had worse. Try nothing for a month or so. Everything tastes like gold after that. Well, maybe except this slop.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up and her eyes swiveled around to catch one of the other patients staring at her. She stared back. Neither looked away until he began to shake. She had to hold in her smirk. She had stared down hell. One man wouldn't break her.

He suddenly stood up and ran out of the room. Hm. Weak. Hermione continued eating and began to think quietly. Working on her seemingly endless puzzle. She was different. Her timeline started out sort of happy. Flashes of smiles and friendship passed through her mind. But it wasn't always happy. She was bombarded with images of her hair being dipped in ink and falling down the stairs from someone pushing her. Mean names like "Buck tooth beaver" and "Bushy haired know it all." The words made her chest tighten, but then she threw it away with determination. Words were words. She didn't care.

Hermione sighed when lunch was over and wanted to go back to her garden. But it was time for another session with Talmer. She wasn't allowed in group session. Something about scaring the other patients. She shrugged and headed back to her room. Talmer insisted they meet in a familiar and safe place.

As she was walking down the hall, she heard a noise. Something like a munching? No, no. Sucking? What the hell did it even matter? Her brain was screaming to ignore it, but everything else in her made her body turn to look into a patient's room. A dark figure bent over a man. He wasn't breathing and she spotted dried blood at his wrists. She didn't even think before slamming into the room. The door somehow unlocked before her. She would have to look back on that.

The monster stared straight at her and she was greeted with a hideous face that resembled a dead and rotting corpse. It was like she went into auto mode. She ran up to the creature to throw a punch, but it caught her arm and slammed her against the wall. Her head swam as she realized most of her drugs made her weak. Damn it!

With spotty vision, she watched the beast run out of the room. She stumbled after it, but fell to the ground with a crash. One of the nurses spotted her from around the corner and yelled, "Oh my gosh!" Hermione gripped onto the nurse as she helped her up.

"Monster" she rasped out.

"What?"

"Monster!" Her shaky finger pointed to the open patient room and the nurse called in backup. Talmer had rushed as quickly as he could and watched as orderlies dragged Hermione away. "There was a monster! You need to get it! Get the monster!" Talmer rushed through and saw the bloody body in the room. He looked to his struggling patient. Did she…..did she kill him thinking he was a monster? He killed that thought and ran after Hermione. No. She was doing better. The puzzle was being completed. He _knew_ she couldn't hurt someone innocent.

"Release my patient!" The two burly men stopped and looked towards him.

"She's dangerous, Jon."

His eyes sharpened. "That is up for me to decide. Now release my patient." They did so hesitantly and Jon caught the dizzy girl. "Come on. We'll get this all sorted out." He noticed the blood in the back of her head as she winced.

"Let's get that all fixed up. You can tell me everything later." She nodded and they continued on walking.

Later that day, Hermione could be seen sitting up in her bed with a bandage wrapped around her head. Talmer had given her an Ice pack for the pain. "Now, you know I hate to push, but could you tell me about what happened?" She didn't look away from him. She had to face this head on.

"I saw a monster kill him." Jon paused and put down his clipboard.

"Hermione, I need you to tell me how you know this was real and wasn't something your mind made up."

"Because I wasn't afraid of it." He tilted his head. "I see floating ghosts draped in black. I hear a snake's hiss and see flashes huge golden eyes. Spiders always seem so much scarier than they should. But I have never seen this. And it didn't scare me, because it hasn't terrorized me." He nodded slowly.

"So, your reasoning is that, it isn't from the puzzle."

She snapped her fingers with a smile. "I should have put it that way! Yeah. It doesn't fit into my scary puzzle of death and sadness."

He chuckled. "I thought we agreed on a more positive outlook?"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. My memory puzzle."

He smiled. "There we go." Hermione sat back contently as everything began to settle. She was having a hard time with this new development, but she would get better. Talmer promised she would.

Her dinner was brought to her and then the night started. It was hard sleeping when all the screaming night terrors of the other patients started. She didn't sleep much anyways though.

But right as her mind began to drift, there was a noise behind her. Sort of like flapping or a huge gust of air. She didn't want to turn around. She didn't want to even acknowledge that she heard something. "I know you aren't sleeping." She closed her eyes in frustration.

"I don't want to know what you are." She could hear footsteps approach her. Her eyes were looking at the legs of a man. He was obviously wearing a business suit with some sort of coat over it. Her curiosity broke her when she saw two feathery wings almost touching the floor. Her gaze glanced up to see the face of the man within her room. Crystal blue eyes that looked through her curiously. He honestly looked like a businessman with the suit and trench coat. It was just the backwards tie and the stubble on his otherwise clean shaven face that made him seem a bit more….improper.

"My name is Castiel and I am an angel of the Lord." Hermione sat up slowly and reached her hand out to him. He didn't move as she gripped his tie and tugged it a few times.

Then she poked his hand a few times just for good measure. "You're real." She said it as a statement, but it came out as a cross between disbelief and awe.

He nodded, looking a bit confused. "Why wouldn't I be?" She shrugged and sat back on her bed.

"I see things. I know they aren't real, but sometimes I'm fooled." She rubbed her tired eyes and yawned. "I've never met an angel or even really had much of a religion so I don't understand how this could be a hallucination. But, from my experiment ten seconds ago, you seem to be as real as the monster in this hospital."

Castiel looked even more confused. "I came to-."

"Do angels just look like humans?"

He paused before answering, "This is only a vessel. My true form is more than any human can handle."

She nodded with an approving look. "Impressive. What's a vessel? Like a ghost possession?" Her eyes widened and she shot up from the bed. She gripped his jacket and looked into those blue eyes with anger. "Is there an innocent person within? Are you participating in the enslavement of a human being?" He looked around the room. He seemed to be frustrated.

"An angel can not take a human as a vessel without their consent. I haven't enslaved anyone." She released him and plopped back down in her bed.

"Thank goodness. I would have to kill you if you were."

His eyes sparked with amusement. "You? Kill an angel."

Her face deepened into a grimace. "I wouldn't hesitate. Even if you had a knife in your hand right now while I was powerless. I would kill you for that human life to be free."

He walked closer to her. "Would you consider helping two other humans that need help?"

Now she was listening. "What do you mean?"

He began to pace around the bed slowly. "I mean, that I need your assistance."

"Why is an all powerful angel concerned with a headache like me?"

"Because of the tremendous amount of magic you carry."

Her heart stopped. "Magic?" That singular word bounced off every memory. It wanted to fit. The memories grasped at that sparkling word, but it never stuck.

"You didn't know?"

She scratched her head in confusion. Everything was still bouncing around her head, but she needed to get focused. "Well, my brains are a bit scrambled to be honest. I'm still working out my puzzle. But to be fair, I don't think the likes of me would have magic."

He sat on the bed and looked at her intently, "I believe that you would be a valuable asset to have."

She crossed her arms and looked straight forward. "I'm not valuable. I'm a useless broken puzzle."

He paused and then reached out to touch her head. "Let's see if I can put you back together." As soon as his fingers touched her skin, she was jolted into a world she had forgotten. A world of magic and danger and familiarity. She had loving parents and two amazing friends. She could begin to feel her whole world coming back together. So light and cheerful. She was beginning to feel whole again.

But not before the dark hit. The Golden eyes she saw in the mirrors now have a body. The basilisk she faced. The dark ghosts now have a name. Dementors. The spiders she feared were bigger than anything in reality. More memories smashed through her protective walls and it caused her to scream in a panic.

The hated professor becoming her mentor. The war getting serious. Dumbledore confronting her on her secret studies of the dark arts. She became an expert. He wanted her to fight fire with fire.

Then all the death. She watched her family die. Her mentor, her friend, her teachers, her life. She was on the run. Running, hiding, assisting the others that were pursued. But, she wasn't good enough. She was caught. She was tortured. She was a pet. She was just a Mudblood pet.

Every night she prayed to Death. Prayed that all her suffering would come to an end. But, her prayers became more like conversations. She never had anyone to speak to. So, she would speak to Death. Her talks to the non-existent persona became her anchor. The thought of her Gryffindor courage, her friends, her pride. It all became obsolete. But Death? Death was reliable. Always there. Always constant.

As soon as her escape began to come to her, the reeling memories stopped. She had seen everything. The puzzle coming together and cracking into bits. It was killing her.

When she could finally see past her memories, she found herself to be pinned to the cold hospital ground by the angel she had just meet. "You were hurting yourself." She could feel her face stinging in pain and decided what he was saying was true. He released her hands slowly and got up from his position. "I take it what you remember wasn't very pleasant."

He looked back down to her and realised that she hadn't moved. The scratches on her cheek were healing faster than they should have. But he noticed something else. She was crying. He didn't know what to do.

"I don't want to remember." She slowly sat up from her position and held her knees to her chest. "I wish I would have just burned the puzzle." He slowly approached her as her eyes came up to his. "I shouldn't be alive."

"But you are."

"I don't want to be."

He held out his hands to her. "I can give you a purpose, if you would like one." She hesitantly took his hands. She felt secure. Safe.

"I don't think I can do what you ask."

He slightly smiled to her as she was helped up. "I doubt that. You care for humanity. You are powerful. You can do this if you want. But I will not force you."

She wiped her tears away and set her face in determination. "I've got nothing to lose. I'll do whatever it is you need. As long as it's within reason."

He nodded and told her honestly, "Understood."

But before he could leave again, she gripped him tight in a hug. She needed it. She just needed someone. Anyone to give her comfort. To tell her that she was never going back to her hell. "Promise me I'll never go back. Promise you'll never allow it."

He awkwardly hugged her back and told her in his monotonous gruff voice, "I promise." And then he disappeared from her arms with a flap of those huge wings. She slowly sat back down on her bed and let all the new information run its course. New things were popping up here and there. She needed to put it all out. Organize it.

She shot up from bed for the last time and went over to her timeline. She grabbed the box of crayons she was allowed to have and began her new timeline. She would finally complete the impossible puzzle, but she was almost positive she didn't want to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Well hello there! I don't really have much to report here. Just that I hope you reviewers send in some suggestions! I'd really like to hear your input and whatnot.**

 **And yoooooo Scarlet Dewdrop! Shout out to the coolest beta ever! Woo!**

 **Anywho, ENJOY!**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Dr. Talmer had walked into Hermione's room with a confident smile on his face. He had found a great new technique on jogging memory last night and was excited to use it. Hermione would appreciate it.

He knocked on the door before walking in. What he was greeted with made him stop in his tracks. Everything was coated in paper and words. Their timeline. It was _everywhere._ "What is all this?"

Hermione popped up from behind her bed with wide eyes. "I'm finishing the puzzle."

"You're what?"

She put down the paper she was working on. "I believe you heard me."

"I know I did. It's just hard to process."

"I agree. The short version is that I remember."

"You remember? Just like that?"

She nodded in response while he stood there dumbfounded. "I had an angel in my room last night. Castiel. He was really nice. Well, he made my memories clear!"

"An angel?" How could this possibly get any worse?

"Mmhmm! He had wings and everything! I mean, I didn't expect to see an angel in a trench coat, but hey. Who am I to judge?" Before he could say anything, she continued, "It's really interesting actually. I'm a bit of a different person from these memories. Like both parts of me are trying to collide. It feels weird."

It got worse. "Hermi-."

"But this timeline is amazing really. Although, depressing in most aspects. I knew that I must have had parents, and I did! Both were dentists. They loved me, but they couldn't protect me from the kids at school. Their favored name calling was Bushy Haired Know-it-all as well as Bucktoothed Beaver." She traveled over to the beginning of her timeline which was at the top of the wall by her barred window.

"That's at the very start. It really sucked being the freak. The smart kid that didn't want to play on the playground. Which made me gain a dependency on books and my arrogant sense of self-importance. I believed I was the best and everyone else was stupid just because of how they treated me."

Talmer finally got a word in. "Which is completely normal when placed in that situation."

"Thank you. But that attitude caused more problems for me. Because now people had a reason to hate me. And I didn't even see it." She moved down the line. "Ever since I was little, strange things happened around me. My books would fly off the high shelves when I needed them. Glass broke around me when I got upset. Sometimes, my pencils would sharpen by themselves. I remember when I fell out of a tree and I levitated before hitting the ground."

Talmer looked increasingly worried. He watched as she moved around the room.

"And all of that was explained when I got a letter on my eleventh birthday. A lady in green robes delivered it to me. Told me I was a witch. I didn't believe her at first. Until she turned into a cat. I believed her then."

"A cat?"

"Mmhmm. She was an animagus. That was my main goal in magic practice. To become an animagus." She moved to another wall while Talmer was freaking out. "This is where the school supplies shopping came in. I had never seen a place so full of magic. I was wonderstruck to be honest. I was filled in on history and what not. Got my own bank account too! I felt so grown up. And even more so when school actually started. That's where I met my two best friends Harry and Ronald. On the Hogwarts express."

"Excuse me? Hogwarts?" _Hogwarts? Hog-warts!_

"I know. Silly name. But it was a fantastic Wizarding school for anyone who wanted to be eaten alive. I obviously didn't know that at the time. I was just excited at the fact that magic was real and I was lucky enough to be the ones that have it. Me! Boring old Hermione Granger. It was unbelieveable. Almost a dream. But it all solidified when I got sorted into a house."

"A house?"

"Yep. I was in the noble house of Gryffindor. The sorting hat asked for me to be in Slytherin when I tried to cheat the hat into sorting me into Gryffindor. I wonder how things would have turned out if I went into Slytherin instead…" She snapped out of her thoughts and moved on. "Nothing really important happened in my school life. It would honestly take me hours to sort all of this out for you. But, the basics are we almost got eaten by a giant cerberus, I got petrified by a basilisk, my happiness was sucked out of me by dementors, I helped Harry survive the worst tournament on earth and the rise of Voldemort."

"Volde... who?"

"Most people fear his name. You-Know-Who is just way too long to say. Ridiculous really. But, this ridiculous man started a war. A war I fought in. A war….a war I lost." Hermione was getting to the end of her timeline. "I lost everyone in that war. And I lost even more after I hid. I helped those in need. Meanwhile, our government was taken over by the Death Eater's. My killing curse didn't hit Voldemort. It hit a low level Death Eater. So, he was obviously at the head of everything in his supremacy. He took over the muggle world too. They served as slaves to the purebloods. Poor bastards."

She gave a rueful laugh. "I learned a lot in those years on the run. Never trust anyone. How to survive on barely anything. I also learned curses that would make Death Eaters piss themselves. Most of them I made up. Just out of spite and boredom. I did it all without a wand too. That silly stick just held me down. My magic needed to be let loose. I couldn't keep it controlled." Her eyes became sad as she came to the last part of her timeline.

"I was captured. I was ready for execution. But, _she_ took me in. She wanted a nice little Mudblood pet. Bellatrix Lestrange. My _Mistress._ I can't believe I ever called her that. She broke everything in me. My heart, my mind, my body."

Talmer could finally get a word in. And it was only a softly spoken, "Hermione." She paused in her timeline and looked to the man.

"Hermione, this isn't healthy."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Isn't this what we've been trying to achieve?"

He walked closer to her. "This…..this isn't what we worked for. This is a step back. A fabricated past? Magic? Hermione, something very bad happened to you and now your mind is making up a story to make everything less painful."

Hermione could feel anger bubbled up within her. "Make things less painful? You think _this_ is less painful than anything?"

"I didn't-."

"I was tortured within an inch of my life every day! I watched everyone I love get ripped from me. My only friend in the world was _Death!_ And what is supposed to make it so unrealistic? Magic? Really?"

He hesitantly approached her. She may as well have been a rabid animal at that moment. He rested a heavy hand on her shoulder. "You need to calm down."

She ripped herself away from him. Her face scrunched in anger as she yelled, "Don't tell me to calm down! I finally solved my puzzle! I finally know everything! And what do you want to do? Tell me it doesn't matter!" She began to rip down all of her work. Every last page.

"I don't need to prove anything to you! I don't need your approval! I don't need any of this! I'm not crazy!"

He was desperate for her to understand. "I didn't say you were crazy!"

" _I'm not crazy!"_ All around her, the windows started to crack.

"I finally reached my goal! I'm better now! And the one person in my life that isn't dead thinks I'm more of a nut job than when we started!" The threatening sound of the strain on the already damaged windows reverberated around the room. All of the pent up magic made the air heavy. It was suffocating.

"I was right when I was nothing more than a pet! Death is my only friend! He'll always be there! Unlike you!" With the last part screamed out in desperation, the windows finally gave out and shattered everywhere. Talmer ducked down and covered himself from the blast. Hermione could feel angry tears run down her cheeks.

"You were supposed to be there." Talmer looked up to her with those bright green eyes. Now swirled with confusion.

"Why can't I just have one person that I can actually see? That's actually there?" Talmer got up from his position and she expected him to run away. To tell the world of her dangerous outburst. But no.

What he did was wrap his arms around her gently and told her in the softest tone he could manage, "I'm right here." She broke down. All the glass went back to its place as she squeezed him tightly. She felt safe in his arms. He believed her. He wasn't afraid of her. He was there for her.

The orderlies had rushed in when they heard the shattering noise, but there was nothing wrong. Only a doctor helping his very first patient. For the rest of the day Hermione showed Jon every paper she created in order. And whenever they read one, it was thrown into the trash. When Hermione asked why he wanted her to do that, Jon had told her "The puzzle is done and what's past is past. It may hurt, but the only way to move on is to look to the future. It'll be a struggle, but I have confidence in you." She had smiled so wide.

Talmer obviously had many questions for her. And he would definitely get home and freak out over the fact that the girl he was treating was magic and there was a magic school somewhere in the universe. She had made it perfectly clear that there wasn't the same magic in this world. And, well, everything was destroyed in hers. Gosh he was giving himself a headache trying to wrap his mind around everything.

But life went on after the incident. After all the pages were gone, he had given her a fresh notebook to write on. "What's this for?"

"Anything you want really. You can write your feelings, how your days go, or what your plans for the future are. This is _your_ notebook. You can do with it as you please." Hermione nearly cried. She had dropped the book with shaky hands and covered her mouth. For a moment, Jon thought he had screwed something up. But as her eyes crinkled slightly and her cheeks took on a happy glow. Her hands moved away to reveal a dazzling smile.

"I haven't had something of my own for so long." She couldn't keep the smile away. "I have something."

He picked it up off the floor and gave it back to her. "Yes. And get used to it! You're officially my favorite patient, so that means special treatment."

She felt like she was on cloud nine. Being held for so much time. On the run, she didn't have time to own anything besides the clothes on her back and her knife. Sometimes she would steal books, but they weren't hers. She would always have to dump and burn them. There wasn't enough space for something as trivial as books.

But, despite all the progress she made, she still wasn't in the clear. Memories of that kind brought damage. PTSD, nightmares, anxiety, depression, and some extra spices to make things even more fun _._ Not to mention the paranoia she'd been not so magically cursed with from the war and a shot self-esteem from all the dirty curses etched into her skin. And now that her magic had forced its way back to the surface, she couldn't keep it under control like she used to. More things broke, exploded, heated up, iced over and more around her when she would get upset or nervous. It was like she was a little girl just discovering her magic all over again.

The patients had started noticing these things. One in particular. Martin. He was nervous man that was obsessed with clowns. What she's seen of him, he could be scared away with a mean glance. But just because he wouldn't approach her, didn't mean he wasn't watching.

They were even in group therapy together. Which made for a lot of suspicious glances sent her way. It was a small price to pay after Jon told her what he had to do to get her there. Group therapy meant being able to socialize, which meant being even closer to her release from the hospital. She was checked out after the sudden memory retrieval. The doctors titled it as a normal miracle in the world of trauma induced amnesia.

The patients were still afraid of her, but that was all ignored. She didn't really care anyways. All that mattered was that she was getting better. And hopefully one day, she could live her life again. Just what 'living' meant, she'd have to figure out all over again. She wasn't quite sure anymore. The future had never given her much concern. It reminded her too much of divination to be perfectly honest. But this time, she wanted to be ready.


	4. Chapter 4

**Coming back at you with another chapter! So, I'm sorry for the delay. I've been dealing with some real life shit. Life sucks ya know? But hey! I have my writing to keep me sane. Or in this case, insane. Mwahahhaha! Yep. I know I'm lame.**

 **Thank you to the amazing beta that puts up with my horrid grammar! You literally make this story 10 times better! Love ya Scarlet Dewdrops!**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

Hermione's inquiry broke the comfortable silence of her room, "Hey Cas. Do you think life is important?"

A monotonous, "Of course," was the immediate, almost reflexively automated response. Someone else might think he was just saying it because he had to, 'cause, you know, _angel_ and all, but she knew better.

Hermione looked down to her cards and pursed her lips as she thought for a moment. "Then why is it so short? I was thinking it would hang around a bit longer."

She placed a card on the pile and the angel took his turn, staring at the cards in his hands intently before picking one to place over hers. His reply was simple, "So people wouldn't take it for granted."

Hermione nodded. "You're probably right." Another play of cards. "Hey Cas. Why are you always visiting me?"

Castiel paused for a second, halfway through the motion of putting his card down before he completed the halted action. He then looked up at her and stated, "You seem lonely."

Her head tilted to the side slightly, like a bird studying something it wasn't sure about, then told him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "That's because I am lonely."

He looked up at her and the game was momentarily paused. "Does that mean you enjoy my company?"

Hermione's serious expression morphed into a bright smile and she leaned forward to ruffle the angel's hair. "Of course I do! You're fantastic company." The angel looked to her with a taller posture and prideful eyes. He probably didn't notice, but his wings also fluffed out in pride too. She just had to let loose a giggle. The angel looked so dorky. Well, as dorky as a straight faced heavenly warrior could look wrapped up in a businessman.

It was a sunny morning with beautiful rays of golden sun shining through the windows. It made Castiel almost look….wait for it…..angelic! She just had to have a laugh over her cheesey joke. But it did make Castiel worry for her mental health. Well, more than he already worried. He never really understood why heaven considered the girl a threat. Other than the magic, she was fairly harmless and quite rational.

Hermione threw down her cards and proclaimed loudly, "You won!"

His brow furrowed in confusion at how exactly this victory had been accomplished, "What were the rules of the game?"

Hermione shrugged with a laid back grin. "I don't know, the nargles told me you won, so you win." Seeing his concerned reaction to this, she rolled her eyes and waved him away lazily, "Not-of-this-world-reference. Really, I was just throwing down cards and then you joined. But you are definitely the winner." He didn't question further.

They shared a companionable silence for a few minutes, Hermione studying the wall as Castiel studied her, before she decided her question was worth asking, because she couldn't imagine up an answer on her own. "What do angels do when they're bored?"

"I don't know. Some of us enjoy watching the humans' heavens."

She frowned at the thought of someone watching her most precious moments because they didn't feel like doing angel-duties at the time. "Isn't that intrusive?"

"They don't notice us."

There was a line between intrusive and intruding. It seems angels just don't notice the line while they're flying around willy-nilly. "Still." Hermione laid back on the ground and looked up to the ceiling. "Breakfast is soon and I'm bored again."

Castiel searched around the room. "We can work on the project you told me about."

She shot up from the ground with a huge smile. "Smart angel!" She reached under her bed and pulled out a marked up bible. There were colorful notes sticking out and some pages were folded. "We're almost done." She opened the book and grabbed a pen. Jon allowed her to have them in her room. He said she was stable enough to not harm herself or others. Which made her happy, of course. Making notes with crayon was difficult.

They worked on notating her bible for the last hour until breakfast. Castiel would tell her what was real and what was just ridiculous, lost in translation or purposely edited in or out of it over time. He even pointed out some of the people he personally knew and told her interesting facts and stories about them. Like how one of the disciples liked telling inappropriate jokes and how Moses was a very talented singer. She liked to hear those stories. But her favorites were the ones where he would tell her of how life began. It was hard for her to wrap her mortal mind around, but she tried.

In her alone time, she would do research on angels. Gathering information as she read. She got bored sometimes and doodled angel wings and such on the pages instead of the sticky notes. She hoped God didn't mind. Though, he was probably much too busy to worry about a single bible. Hermione paused in thought and decided to ask Castiel about that. But they were doing Bible fact or fiction this morning, so it wasn't really time to ask questions. Besides, it was almost breakfast time and she wanted to get other things done. So, she scribbled the question down on a sticky note quickly and placed it inside the cover of the holy book with her other sticky note wonderments to be asked later.

Soon their hour was up and Castiel had to leave for heaven duty. She told him goodbye and he promised to visit again, as usual. As Hermione mushed the pile of cards into something resembling a deck, Jon walked in and scolded her playfully, "You can't play cards all day. Breakfast started without you." She finished picking up the cards and put them in the pocket of her robe.

"Sorry. I was playing cards with Castiel." He held the door for her as she walked out. But before she could completely leave the room, he cleared his throat. Hermione sighed in annoyance. "You don't skip a beat, do you?"

"I've been with you for a while." Jon smiled knowingly and cajoled her, "Put your shoes on."

She looked down to her bare feet, toes a-wiggling, and whined petulantly, "But they make my feet all sweaty."

Familiar with this behavior, the doctor merely smiled and nodded in understanding. "Well that's just too bad. Rules are rules and the rules say that you need to wear shoes." She muttered curses under her breath and moved to slip on the damned uncomfortable canvas-y shoes. As they walked to the dining hall, Jon asked, "So, Castiel. Your angel friend, right?"

"Yep. We were playing cards and working on my bible notes." A fond smile graced her face as she thought back over the amicably spent morning.

"Ah. Yes. Did you bring that with you to breakfast?" She smiled and pulled the book from her robe. Jon had sewed in a pocket on the inside just so she could keep it close. The man was incredibly talented in the art of sewing. He'd even made her a pair of gloves when she complained about the cold.

"You know me too well." He held out a hand to ask for the book and she gladly handed it to him. He liked to see the research, and she couldn't blame him. It was fascinating. "We worked on the later pages. Cas had some funny stories. Did you know Moses liked to sing?"

Jon shook his head in amusement. "I did not." Jon had long since gotten used to the crazy sounding things his patient told him. He never once believed she wasn't telling him the truth. One defining characteristic of Hermione was her brutal honesty. She would tell him straight up if he was being stupid or had a bad attitude. She never held back. Which is part of the reason she was still held in the hospital.

On evaluations she would always tell the truth. She had a friend, an angel, named Castiel that needed her help in watching over two monster hunters. She was a witch from another world. She had casual conversations with Death. He didn't understand why she didn't just lie. Her response to that was always the same. "I have no reason to. What else do I have in this world besides you?" And of course that would make him feel sad as well as honored. He mentioned Castiel as an answer to this, but she'd only laughed and told him that 'angels aren't of this world, silly'.

She once told him of her plans once she was free. Well... plan, really. Which consisted of only having a good meal instead of the horrid hospital food. She didn't know what to do. No ideas on a career or school or anything. She knew she would be free one day. And that day would be on her terms. She could disappear any time she wanted, after all. But she chose to stay. And why? Because all she had in this strange new world was her doctor, Jon Talmer.

He returned the book after taking a glance at a few new notes. "You'll have to tell me more later. The secrets of life are intriguing to say the least."

Hermione grinned, "I can't tell you too much Doc. They _are_ secrets for a reason." He only nodded in response. They reached the dining hall and separated. She traveled to her table by the window after retrieving her slop lunch. Oh, how she wished she could just eat something delicious for a change. She wasn't picky. Even a greasy american burger would make her cry tears of joy. Jon was quite fond of them. He always told her he would buy her one some day.

Hermione ate her paste-like, tasteless food quickly and pushed the tray aside. Her bible and pen were out in seconds and soon she was enveloped by the stories of God. Everything was so interesting and the parables were quite useful life lessons. Though, she disliked how some people misinterpreted or took facts too seriously.

The day went by fairly quickly after that. Mentions of monsters at night, patients dying, and what not. Dante was leaving them today. He could finally be slowly introduced back to normal life. She didn't know what his condition was, but she was happy for him. Hermione even went as far as to shake his hand and tell him congratulations. Which may not have been the best choice of action because she forgot that Dante was quite frightened of her.

It was in her experience that magical beings gave off a heavy vibe of sorts. If Luna Lovegood were to walk into a bar of angry bikers, they would suddenly feel the sensation of calm wash over them. Hermione smiled at the thought. She could probably get anyone to smile. And that was all because of her magical aura. But it was different for Hermione. Her aura was plagued with dark intent and frightening feelings. It tended to make people give her a second glance then go out of their way to avoid getting too close to her.

No one sat at the table with her. The seats next to her in group were always the last to be filled. Years ago that might have made her feel like the last kid picked for a team again, but now she simply accepted that she made people uncomfortable and moved on. Besides, Jon stopped squirming around her months ago.

She believed that the reason angels seem so heavenly is because of their magical aura. If one were to walk upon the earth it would surely cause a few people to stare. Just because people's senses were very intuitive. Animals and babies even more so. Which kind of made her upset because animals wouldn't seem to like her very much. Well…...cats were the exception. She liked cats. Cats were little devils with the looks to please. It was a match made in hell.

Lunch rolled around after another day of therapy and boredom. But during that lunch, she could feel the watchful eyes of the paranoid patient Martin. It was starting to get on her nerves. It's not like she ever does anything suspicious! She didn't snoop around or mess with the other patients. As far as the other patients were concerned, the only things odd were her uncontrollable bursts of magic and anger...Okay. She could see why she would be suspicious.

Finally fed up with the icky feeling of his stare, Hermione turned her gaze to Martin and narrowed her eyes. No matter how shady her actions were, it gave the man no right to stare at her for the entirety of her meals.

She was surprised when for the first time in forever, instead of looking back down at the table after being caught, he looked past her. And she was just curious enough to see what could be so darn interesting. And even when she spotted what his eyes were directed at, she didn't understand. There were two newcomers in her field of vision. One gigantic size and the other still pretty tall. Maybe a two inch difference. They had some resemblances in places. The main thing being the eyes. Not color or anything. Those were still different. But the sadness they both held. It literally radiated off of them. She decided with a mental shrug that they weren't her problem and went back to her bible markings. At least Martin was staring at them, not her. For once.

"Sam. Dean." Her ears picked up the names and stored them for later. But she didn't find anything else of interest as Martin called the two over to him. She decided to keep to her studies. It was definitely more interesting than old friends reuniting in the loony bin, of all places. So, she flipped the page she left off on and let the consumption of knowledge drown out the ambient noise.

"Martin?" The older man nodded and offered the two seats in front of him. Dean asked, "It's been a while. How've you been?"

Martin twitched nervously with the response, "As good as I'll ever be. I'm glad you boys are here." The two leaned in closer and got down to business.

"So, tell us what's been going on?"

Martin explained, "There have been suicides going around. I don't think they're suicides though. Patients are saying they're seeing a monster. I believe 'em." The two looked around. A lady was dancing with an invisible partner and a man was singing to himself.

Dean muttered under his breath, "Credible eyewitnesses I see."

Martin brought back their attention with his next sentence. "But there's another case." Dean felt a heavier weight upon his shoulders. Two cases in one crazyhouse? Great. More work. Like one bad guy wasn't bad enough. "There's a patient here that has some strange things happen around her."

Sam asked in interest, "Strange things?"

"Well. Just last week we had to replace a window that shattered when an orderly angered her. Electronics short out around her when she gets nervous. Random things combust when she gets emotional. Are you seeing what I'm getting at?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. But I don't know anything that has that kind of power."

Sam wracked his brain for an answer. "I don't remember reading anything in any lore books." Sam focused back on Martin. "Which patient is she?" The man hesitantly pointed to Hermione. She of course was in her own study land and oblivious to everything. One of the only times she let her guard down around the others.

Dean looked at the girl unconvinced. She looked pretty pathetic to be a super powerful monster. She just looked horribly depressed. Complete with dark circles under her eyes and sagged shoulders. At the moment, she seemed to be studying a book. Dean looked back to Martin and asked incredulously, "Her?"

Sam interrupted the conversation. "It doesn't matter. Are you sure about this girl? We can't go swinging a sword at a random chick."

Martin looked nervous again. "Are you really going to make me prove it?" It wasn't even a whine, it was just… pitiful.

Dean sighed. "Look. If you can, that'd be great." Martin took a deep breath and shaking rose from his seat. His walk was unsteady as his breathing became uneven. The boys were starting to regret their request. But they couldn't kill an innocent girl. This was the only way.

Martin got to the table and took out one of his crayons from his pocket. Her attention went to him in a surprised gaze. Martin had never walked up to her before. He only stared at her. This behavior confused her. And then, the unthinkable happened. The nervous and hesitant, paranoid patient Martin, took his crayon and scribbled on her current bible page. Hermione watched in horror as all her work was covered in disgusting red.

Almost as if on autopilot, she grabbed his arm and heard him gasp in pain. Her eyes were ablaze with fury as she looked to her bible. It was ruined! Her perfect notes. The notes she worked so hard on. Every page was pristine and organized. Even the folded ones and the ones she'd drawn on, they were done by her, at least. And now…..it was destroyed. She couldn't even use magic to fix it. She couldn't control her magic yet! She still needed to re-learn how to use her magic and practicing by fixing this page was out of the question. It was unlikely that, with her anger issues, she'd manage to get the crayon off without burning it the whole thing to ash. She could feel the rage bubble up as her hand crushed Martin's arm.

"You bastard." The lights in the room shook and flickered as she looked straight into the man's eye. "You damn bastard!" She couldn't help it. The lights shattered and she bent his arm back with a snap. The orderlies were on her in a second. She was quickly sedated as the nurses came to Martin's aid. Sam and Dean watched in a bit of horror as the officials acted like this was an everyday occurrence.

The orderlies all sigh in annoyance as the nurses shook their heads whispering things like, "Why don't they just send that girl away" and "I've never seen such violence. Even in the worst patients" as well as "Might as well be a demon."

Hermione's outburst had gone from frequent to rare. Most people had learned not to rile her up because of her short fuse. And any hallucinations she had she usually knew how to handle. Jon was of course her doctor and had given her techniques to determine what was real and what was not. Some things still scared and or pissed her off to the point of violence. But that wasn't an every week occasion anymore.

Usually patients of her temperament were put into a different place with the doctors that could handle her. But Jon kept insisting that he was close to a breakthrough. And Hermione didn't want to leave Jon so she gave it her all to get better.

However, getting better took up most of her time and energy. Which, left magic on a back burner. She

The brothers looked to each other and held out their arms. Dean stated in almost a dramatic fashion. "Winner takes monster. Loser takes freaky over there." Sam set his eyes in determination.

"Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!"

Dean looked to his choice. Rock. Sam usually went for rock too. So they would have to draw again. But alas. He looked to Sam's hand that lay flat out. Paper. "Dammit." Sam smirked triumphantly in return. Damn this hunt was going to suck.


End file.
